Tatoe
by Imadra Blue
Summary: This story expands on the RotS videogame's alternate ending by showing how Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala must both find the hope they need to continue in a galaxy suffocated by Darth Vader's dark side. Gen.


**Character(s):** Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Bail Organa, Yoda  
**Disclaimer:** Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** Written for Fanfic 100, Prompt: _082. If._ Many, many thanks to my three patient betas Neotoma, Beatrice Otter, and KDawg for beta reading—the story underwent quite a few transformations thanks to them. This is an attempt to follow the _Revenge of the Sith_ videogame's alternate ending and match it to movie canon within that alternative univsverse. The final passage of this fic is a homage to Matthew Stover's final passage in _Revenge of the Sith_. _Tatoe_ is a Japanese word meaning "if, even if, example, though, or although" depending on its usage.

. . .

Obi-Wan Kenobi's skin prickled with the memory of pain. He spent a moment wondering if he was dead before it occurred to him that death wouldn't feel so… real. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself floating in a blue ocean. He extended his arms, and his fingers pressed against warm transparisteel. He blinked, struggling to see, confronting only distant, hazy images. The bacta stung his eyes, and he closed them. Bacta never stung his eyes before.

Where was he?

A soft thrum filled Obi-Wan's ears, and the liquid drained away. His feet slapped onto a warm metal bottom, and strong arms wrapped a cloak around him before the cold set in. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and blinked, looking around. Even turning his head required a Herculean effort. He realized Bail Organa carried him through familiar white halls. He must have been here before, but everything seemed larger and out of proportion, even Bail himself. It occurred to Obi-Wan that Bail had no trouble carrying him.

"Hurry, we must," croaked Master Yoda. Obi-Wan turned his head again and saw the small, green Jedi Master hobbling beside Bail at top speed. "Set off, the alarms have been. Confuse the clones for much longer, I cannot."

The polished walls passed by more quickly. Obi-Wan tried to speak, but his voice refused to work. "We're almost there, Master Yoda," said Bail. Obi-Wan heard footsteps clanging in the distance.

They exited the building into a torrential downpour. Obi-Wan thought he might drown as Bail carried him across a platform. Beneath them, a sea swelled with rain and heaved itself against the base of the facility. Familiarity continued to niggle at Obi-Wan's brain.

Lightning flashed across the storm-ridden sky, and when Obi-Wan looked up, the _Tantive IV_ loomed into view, its cluster of exhaust jets glowing. A hatch opened, just as the clamor of armored feet announced the arrival of clone troopers. Light flashed again, this time from Yoda's lightsaber as he deflected blaster bolts.

Captain Antilles leaned out of the open hatch and pulled Bail and Obi-Wan onboard the _Tantive IV_. Obi-Wan croaked as Antilles's fingers pressed against his tender skin. Yoda landed cat-footed behind them. The hatch closed, blocking out the roar of blasters and the lightning storm.

Bail raced down the hall and into the clean, white cockpit. He set Obi-Wan down in a huge chair as Antilles sat in the pilot's seat. The ship rocked, buffeted by some sort of powerful fire from the clone troopers. Bail whirled around, concern written across his swarthy face. He smoothed down his wet hair. "You know what to do, Captain Antilles."

Antilles grimaced. "Yes, Your Highness," he said.

The familiar whine of turbolasers filled Obi-Wan's ears, and the ship rocked again, but this time from the force of the facility's explosion. Firelight flashed through the cockpit, and clone troopers spilled off the side of the burning platform as it shook and collapsed into the sea. Captain Antilles grimly surveyed the destruction.

"Let's go," Bail whispered. It occurred to Obi-Wan that Alderaan was a peaceful planet.

The _Tantive IV_ rocketed through the turbulent sky. Obi-Wan could fully see the planet below now and gasped. He recognized the smoking installation that crumbled into the ocean. He had been there once before.

Kamino.

The watery planet disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by the cold blackness of space, and then the stars streaked to a blue point as they jumped into hyperspace.

A three-fingered, clawed hand rested on Obi-Wan's knee—a knee that was too small, on legs too short and thin. Obi-Wan looked over at Yoda's wizened face—a face that looked much too large. Yoda's sleepy eyes held pity.

"Sorry, I am, young Obi-Wan. Unable to save your original body, we were."

A memory of unbearable pain consumed Obi-Wan. Anakin leapt through smoke, a nightmare incarnate, an inferno in his eyes. Obi-Wan swung a split second too late, as if his heart held back his lightsaber. Anakin landed behind him, and…

Obi-Wan moaned, feeling Anakin's lightsaber blaze through his mid-section all over again. The pain felt sharp, but not as sharp as the piece of glass permanently wedged in his heart. Anakin kicked him down to the shore, and the heat of the charred sand set Obi-Wan on fire. Through the flames, he saw Anakin walk away.

Obi-Wan Kenobi realized he should be dead. He stared at Yoda.

"Still alive when found, you were," Yoda said, as if he had read Obi-Wan's mind. And perhaps he had. "So damaged, your body was, that a clone of you, did we make. Helped me transfer your consciousness, an old friend did."

Obi-Wan shook his head, unable to comprehend how he could be inside a clone of himself.

"Luminous beings, we are. Not this crude matter," Yoda whispered.

Obi-Wan still did not understand. He closed his eyes to stop the tears that threatened to come. "Pa… P-Padmé," he managed to croak.

Yoda turned away. "Lost, she is. Took her, Darth Vader did."

"We should let him rest," Bail suddenly said, and he took Obi-Wan into his arms. Something about the motion, the comfort of strong arms around him, the musky smell of cologne, made Obi-Wan remember his long-lost childhood.

"Yes. Rest, rest. Tomorrow, more we will talk."

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed as Bail carried him to a cool room and laid him in a soft bunk. Qui-Gon's name came unbidden to Obi-Wan's lips, and as he fell asleep, he thought he felt his Master's hand on his brow.

. . .

Padmé sat on her bed in the Imperial Palace, staring down at the japor snippet in her hand. Though the sun shone bright through the large windows of her richly decorated bedchambers, the japor snippet felt cold.

The door slid open. "You're up," said Anakin as he walked in.

Padmé didn't look at him, though she grasped at the synthesilk bed sheets around her for whatever paltry protection they might provide. She glanced over at her children. She could see their tiny fists over the edges of their bassinets. She reached out to stroke Luke's brow as he started to fuss. He was the more sensitive of the two. Whenever Anakin drew near, he cried.

Anakin said nothing as he paused by the bassinets. He stared down at the twins, frowning as Luke wailed. He reached over and picked up Leia. She squirmed as he held her up, but did not cry. She would be the strong one.

Anakin beamed at his daughter. "They're so beautiful, Padmé. Perfect, just like you."

Padmé searched Anakin's face, looking for the youth she had fallen in love with, but while the words were right, everything about him seemed off, the same holoplayer tuned to a different channel.

Anakin lay Leia back down beside her brother. He placed a finger beneath Padmé's chin and forced her to look at him. His eyes gleamed a sickly yellow, stained with red. Shadows clung to his handsome face despite the bright light.

"You shouldn't have tried to leave me," he said, his voice hard. "We belong together. I am now the Emperor, and you my Empress. Don't you want to help me make this galaxy as peaceful and perfect as it should be?"

Tears leaked out of Padmé's eyes. She wiped them away quickly. "No, I… You should have let me go."

"Don't you want to be with me and our beautiful children?" Anakin asked, his hands closing around her arms.

"I want to be with the real Anakin Skywalker. With the man I fell in love with three years ago." Padmé's voice rose, and she drew back from Anakin. "Listen to me, Anakin, stop this, stop it right now. I know you can't see it, but there's still good in you, I know there is!"

Anakin dropped her back on the bed as if burned. "Everything I have done is for the greater good. For you. For our children. For the galaxy."

He stalked out of the room, his black cloak billowing behind him. Padmé waited until the door slid shut to throw the japor snippet after him. It bounced off the door and skidded across the floor, stopping beneath a table.

Padmé laid back down on her bed and watched her children.

. . .

The mirror reflected a stranger. If Obi-Wan dug through enough memories, he could recall this face as his own, but it no longer suited him. The cheeks were too soft, the skin too smooth, the face too small. Had he ever appeared that fragile and innocent?

"How old am I?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair. It was long and thick, the color like that of red-gold Maris cherries. He had almost forgotten how light his hair had been as a boy.

"We had to turn off the growth accelerator around nine years, else we'd have been caught," said Bail.

Obi-Wan froze. Anakin had been nine when they had met.

Bail laid out child-sized clothing on Obi-Wan's bunk. Yoda prodded the blue and gray tunics with his gimer stick, apparently unimpressed. Obi-Wan wondered where Bail had found them on the _Tantive IV_.

"I'm so small," Obi-Wan said, flexing his hands. His muscles felt weak. All those years of training his body had been for naught. He would have to spend years retraining himself to move that fast again.

"Size matters not," Yoda said. "Age matters not. Alive, we are. If alive we wish to remain, into exile we must go."

Obi-Wan whirled around. "Exile?"

Bail smiled paternally at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was not used to the expression, especially from Bail. Until recently, Bail had been a few years younger than he. "You could come to Alderaan and live with us," Bail said thoughtfully. "I would tell my Queen you were a foundling. You could be our son. No one would think—"

"No," Obi-Wan said flatly. He felt ridiculous, standing there in one of Bail's cast-off tunics and nothing else, but he did not like feel like a child. He had no desire to live as one, either.

"A generous offer, that is. If life as a prince you do not want, then come with me, you can," Yoda said. "Into hiding, you must go. Weak you are now."

Bail looked crestfallen. Obi-Wan felt a pang of sympathy. He knew that the Queen was barren, and that Bail was desperate for children, but he could not give Bail what he wanted.

The thought of children sparked Obi-Wan's memory. "Padmé's child. Do you know what happened?"

Bail glanced at Yoda before answering. "Emperor Anakin I announced the birth of his twins, Prince Luke and Princess Leia. They are the heirs to his Empire, and the beginning of the Skywalker dynasty." Bail's tone held an edge as sharp as a vibroblade.

"No one is challenging him? What happened to Palpatine?"

"What's to challenge? The clone army is under his control. Palpatine is dead. Assassinated by you, or so he says. The Empire views Skywalker as their savior, keeping safety and security alive in Palpatine's stead. The Senate loves him, at least for the moment."

"He's a traitor," Obi-Wan spat. "He destroyed the Jedi. Even the younglings. He's a monster." Yoda's ears rose as he fixed a sleepy gaze on Obi-Wan, but he said nothing.

"It is the Jedi that he calls traitors. He alone was able to shake off their vile corruption. No one can challenge him now. The Empire is his."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

"Go into hiding, we must," Yoda said. "Train in secret, we can, and then defeat Vader."

"What about Anakin's children?"

Neither Yoda nor Bail said anything. They did not even look at him.

"We can't allow this. He'll raise them to be Sith, to be like him. They're our only hope. Neither I nor Yoda can defeat Vader, but perhaps they will be able to. We must rescue them."

Bail stirred. "They're kept under lock and key at the new Imperial Palace. Though, there is a celebration for their birth in a few days…"

"Are you invited?"

Yoda's ears almost pointed straight to the ceiling. Bail glanced at him before answering Obi-Wan. "I am. The entire Senate is. There will be guards, though."

"I'm going with you."

Yoda made a soft "oh" noise and said, "Wish to die so young, do you?"

"He might not recognize me, especially if he thinks I'm dead. And I do know how to cloak my presence."

Yoda leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "Still see you, Vader might."

"I'll take that chance."

Yoda's ears drooped, and he looked down at the floor. "So much like Qui-Gon, you sound. Agree with your plan, I do not, but accept it, I do." He looked up. "Need these, you will."

Yoda pulled two lightsabers from his robes, both stained with soot. Obi-Wan fell quiet as he accepted his and Anakin's lightsaber. It took him a moment to bow in thanks.

"How did you find these?"

"Your lightsaber, you still clutched when found. Anakin's lightsaber, I found nearby. Why he left it, I do not know."

Obi-Wan stroked the silver length of Anakin's weapon, the weapon that had taken so many Jedi lives—even his own, after a fashion. He could not fathom why Anakin had abandoned it. Obi-Wan had spent half his life reminding Anakin that a lightsaber was a Jedi's life, and now Anakin's life lay cold against his palm. When his eyes started to sting, he slipped the lightsabers into his belt and wiped at his face.

"If rescue the children you do, where will you go?" Yoda asked.

"Anywhere. Everywhere. We couldn't stay in one place. An-… Vader will be looking for them."

"Conspicuous, you would be."

"I will help with that," Bail said with a tight smile. "Somehow."

Yoda considered this for a moment. "Help you on Coruscant, I cannot. Broken, my power is. Endanger the mission, I only would. Grown even more powerful, has Darth Vader. Kill you easily, he can."

"I'm not going to confront him. I'm only going to rescue the children."

"If successful you are, then train them you must. Stop looking for them, Vader will not. Safe with families on Naboo or Tatooine, they will not be," Yoda agreed. "To Dagobah, I will go. When ready your new Padawans are, finish their training, I will."

Obi-Wan bowed. "Yes, Master."

Yoda hopped down onto the floor and leaned heavily onto his gimer stick. "While training your Padawans, training I have for you as well, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Training? For me?"

Yoda smiled. "An old friend has learned the path to immortality. One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force. Taught me how to save you, your old Master did."

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked in mixed disbelief and elation.

"How to commune with him, I will teach you."

. . .

Hundreds of beings crowded the Imperial Palace's throne room. Almost every Senator attended, and clone troopers lined the pillared walls, standing at parade rest with their polished black blasters. Above each of their heads hung a red banner with a gold-monogrammed symbol for Anakin's name. A live Turturian band played soft music in the corner, and through the enormous window behind the thrones, Padmé saw fireworks light the night sky far above the glittering streets of Coruscant.

Padmé sat on the throne Anakin had built for her, feeling little more than an extension of the durasteel. Luke fussed in her arms, and Artoo Detoo whistled to himself nearby. Anakin stood at the edge of the throne dais, proudly showing off Leia. Beside him, See Threepio, polished to golden perfection, translated for him.

The image of Anakin holding their infant daughter with a Sith blade hanging from his belt seemed the negative of the fantasies that Padmé had entertained since pregnancy. She had always imagined Anakin standing on the balcony of the island retreat they had fallen in love at, basking in the sun, nuzzling their daughter's face. In reality, he cradled their daughter, blanketed by the shadows clinging to the throne dais. She looked away.

Obi-Wan had once told her that there were always two Sith, and only two. Would Anakin pit their children against each other for a place as his apprentice? He had already murdered younglings and nearly choked her to death; she could not put filicide past him. No one could stop Anakin now, either. The Jedi were gone. Even Obi-Wan was dead. Padmé swallowed and tried not to think of Obi-Wan. She could not dwell on sorrow for her old friend, nor could she dwell on how Anakin could have killed the man he had once claimed was a father to him.

Bail Organa approached Anakin to Padmé's surprise. Bail looked calm and composed as he admired Leia and spoke quietly with Anakin. He glanced at Padmé with concern in his eyes. His fingers twitched and curled, communicating the secret code that Mon Mothma had created for them less than a month ago. He told her that help was on the way. She wanted to laugh at him, to demand what help he thought was left in the galaxy, but he walked back into the crowd.

Anakin returned to Padmé's side, his kingly black suit glittering under the bright lights of the throne room. Luke cried softly against her breast at his approach. Anakin wore his usual cologne, Padmé's favorite, but the spicy smell had grown sour.

"What is wrong, my love? Does this party not please you?" he asked.

Padmé forced a smile on her face. As she had planned to dupe Palpatine with compliance, she would do no less with the Sith Lord before her. "I'm just very tired."

He ran tender fingers over her cheek. She repressed a shudder. "But this is a time for rejoicing. We don't have to hide our love or our children. The entire Empire rejoices for us."

"Be that as it may, it's been less than two weeks since I gave birth to not one, but two babies. You'll have to forgive me."

"I know." Anakin continued to stroke her face, fingers running down her neck, recalling past intimacies. "I know this has all been overwhelming for you, so I forgive you. I know that stress that made you act the way you did. It must be very hard, being pregnant and giving birth."

Padmé nodded. "I don't like all these people around the babies. They're so young, Anakin. They need rest, too."

"Of course, of course," Anakin said. He summoned over the nanny-bot, who had been hovering at the edge of the throne dais. He placed Leia in the droid's arms. "You should take them to your room and rest. I'll join you soon." He bent forward to kiss Padmé. She closed her eyes, silently cursing his lips for being every bit as soft as they had been before he had turned to the dark side.

He pulled back suddenly, his brow furrowing, and he walked straight into the mill of people that crowded the throne room. Padmé hid her relief and handed Luke to the nanny-bot as well. She gathered the skirts of her red and gold dress and headed off the podium and towards the exit. The nanny-bot followed her.

She had only barely reached the double doors when a small boy touched her arm. "Padmé!" he exclaimed, blue-gray eyes wide. She had never seen the child before.

"Padmé, I need to speak to you," he whispered, grasping her hand. She moved to extricate herself. "Please, Padmé, it's important."

She saw Anakin heading straight for them, pushing Senators out of his way, a storm brewing on his face. Recalling Bail's strange promise of help, she nudged the little boy towards the exit. "Follow the droids, Doral, and get some rest," she said.

"Who was that?" Anakin's voice thundered out as he drew nearer. The small boy glanced at Anakin in alarm, then ran after the droids.

"One of my cousins: Doral," Padmé said evenly. "Aunt Seres's youngest son."

Anakin paused and considered her. "Doral," he said slowly. "Your cousin."

"Yes. When you sent out the announcement for this party, I asked Jar Jar to bring him. It will be a good experience for him."

Anakin's expression appeared guarded. "I thought I sensed something… odd about him."

"Perhaps it's your imagination. We've all been under a lot of stress. There's been a lot of changes."

"Perhaps," Anakin admitted.

"Good night, then." Padmé turned from him and hurried down the hallway. She could feel Anakin's gaze on her back until she rounded a corner.

The door to her bedroom slid open with a small hiss, and to her surprise, the lights were off. She could hear the babies gurgling and saw the soft glow from the nanny-bot's eyes as it hovered by the bassinets.

"Padmé."

She jumped at the touch of a small hand to her wrist, then calmed herself. The city lights allowed her to see the pale face of the boy she had just met. "Who are you?" she demanded. When Bail promised her help, did he mean to send her a small child?

The boy frowned. "It's me, Padmé. Obi-Wan."

Padmé withdrew her wrist from the boy's grasp. "That's not funny. You should treat the dead with more respect. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a great man."

The boy sighed. "When I visited your apartment to find out where Anakin was, I did not expect you to tell me. I knew I would have to deceive you and sneak onboard your ship to find him. I apologize for that, but I had no choice." The boy's voice was cultured, especially for one so young, and his eyes studied her with adult intensity. "I am relieved to see Vader didn't hurt you."

Padmé's knees buckled, and she sat down hard. Somehow, it seemed perfectly natural that she should find Obi-Wan in the form of a child before her. What surprised her was that she was still capable of the hope he brought with him.

"Padmé, are you all right?" Obi-Wan grabbed her shoulders, his expression earnest.

She stroked his face. There was a glimmer of the Jedi Knight she had known in his young face, especially around the chin, with the familiar dimple in the center. The eyes definitely belonged to Obi-Wan. "It is you, isn't it, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" she asked, barely able to speak.

"I'm afraid so."

"You survived Mustafar? Anakin said he—"

"If you call somehow clinging to life with a hole in your torso and massive third degree burns surviving, I suppose so. Yoda somehow transferred my consciousness into my own clone before my original body died, though they didn't have enough time to finish the growth."

"Why are you here?" she asked. She drew back from Obi-Wan. Seeing him awoke something in her, something that had been sleeping since Anakin had tried to crush the life out of her on Mustafar. She could not let Obi-Wan kill Anakin. There had to be a way to save Anakin.

"I'm not here to face Anakin if that's what you're worried about. I can't, not like this." Obi-Wan shook his head. "The children. I can't let him raise your children to be Sith Lords. I'll die first."

Tears sprung to Padmé's eyes. "You've come to take them away from me, you mean."

Obi-Wan said nothing, though he helped her to stand.

Padmé wiped at her face and stared at her twins. Her imagination paraded her children before her eyes. She saw Luke, an adolescent with blond hair and hard blue eyes, circled his equally hard-eyed twin sister. Their lightsabers were drawn. Anakin laughed as his children vied for his throne.

"Take them. Take them now."

Obi-Wan nodded and walked over to one of the bassinets. He drew Luke into his arms. Luke did not cry at all, but made a sleepy noise before settling into the crook of Obi-Wan's arm. Padmé felt something rip inside of her, to know that her son wailed when his father touched him, but so easily accepted Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiled down at Luke, a paternal, bittersweet smile that looked odd on his child's face. "I'll let Bail know." He pressed a button on a small comlink and whispered his location into it. "I'll make sure they're safe, Padmé," he said as he slipped the comlink back into his pocket.

The door to her bedroom slid open, and Obi-Wan's eyes went wide, the blood draining from his face.

It took Padmé a moment to turn around.

Anakin glowered at her from the open doorway. The light from the hallway spilled into the darkened room, creating a fiery outline around his shadowy form. "What's he doing with my son?" he demanded.

"Doral just wanted to hold the baby, Anakin," Padmé said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Obi-Wan edge towards the large window at the other end of the room, still clutching Luke.

Anakin grabbed her arm and pushed her aside. "That's not your cousin." He used the Force to knock a table out of his way as he approached Obi-Wan. "Hello, Obi-Wan. I never expected to see you again, much less like this."

"So sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not disappointed. I'm actually rather relieved, despite my justified confusion." Anakin glanced at Luke, who started to fuss in Obi-Wan's arms. "Now, why don't you put down the baby so we can talk about your miraculous resurrection?"

"I'd rather not have a conversation with your lightsaber in my gut again, if it's all the same to you."

Anakin held out his gloved hand. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to make me kill you again. Just give me back my son."

"He's not your son, Darth," Obi-Wan spat. "He's Anakin Skywalker's son."

Luke began to wail. Leia soon joined him. Padmé recalled the image of her children fighting for Anakin's throne and grabbed Anakin's arm, yanking him back with all the strength she possessed. "Run, Obi-Wan! Save Luke!"

Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, trying to shake her off, though she would not release him. Obi-Wan covered Luke with his cloak and ran for the window with a burst of speed that no normal human being could possess. He burst through the window, the sound of shattering glass drowning out the babies' screams for a moment.

"No!" Anakin roared. He lurched away, but Padmé swung a vase from a nearby table into his head. He stumbled forward and then snapped his face towards her, blood trickling down his temple, his red blade's light twisting the shadows over his face.

Trembling, Padme backed away, but not fast enough. Anakin slammed her into the opposite wall with a flick of his wrist. Stars burst across her vision, and blackness threatened to claim her, but she fought it off. When her vision cleared, she saw Anakin standing by the broken window, staring out into vast Coruscant ecumenopolis, the passing wind ruffling his cloak. She could not see Obi-Wan anywhere, and she knew Anakin could not, either.

Anakin ripped out a comlink from his belt and barked orders for the clone troopers to scour Coruscant for a small boy and his infant son. He ordered all the spaceports to shut down and for air traffic to cease around the planet immediately.

But all Padmé could do was laugh. If Obi-Wan managed to find some way to hide himself from Anakin, then no one would find him. They were safe.

Anakin stalked back over to her, his eyes practically glowing. For the first time since before Mustafar, Padmé did not fear him. She felt alive again.

She did not stop laughing until she felt invisible fingers clutch at her throat. Anakin used the Force to yank her up into mid-air. Pressure swallowed her whole body, threatening to crush her. She met Anakin's furious gaze with her own, and she did not yield.

The grip around her throat loosened, and she dropped back to the ground with a painful thud. "You betray me again! You let that bastard steal our son!" he roared, lifting his gloved hand as if he meant to hit her.

Padmé stood up and met his gaze. "You wanted me alive and by your side, Anakin. But as long as you go where I cannot follow, you will only have one of those."

A cracking noise sounded out as his gloved hand met her cheek. Raw pain shot through her face. Padmé fell to the floor, stunned that Anakin had actually hit her, though she did not know why. Not even been two weeks had passed since he had nearly squeezed the life out of her on Mustafar. Tears of pain welled in her eyes, and she gingerly clutched at her broken cheek.

"Take Leia to my room and never let her mother within thirty meters of her again," he snapped at the nanny-bot, then swept out of the room without another word. His cloak brushed Padmé's arm as he walked by, and the scent of his cologne assaulted her nose. A few moments later, the nanny-bot floated past, a still sobbing Leia in its arms. The door locked with a click behind them.

Padmé drew her knees to herself as the wind sent her torn gown fluttering. She thought of Luke and smiled.

. . .

Light filled the dirty starship hangar as the roof opened to allow a ship to sail. Obi-Wan and Bail stood by a small, black starship called the _Hauken Maroon_. Its engines whirred to life.

Bail hid his face with the hood of a gray cloak, and Obi-Wan wore a simple blue outfit with a ridiculously jaunty hat stuffed onto his head. Luke stirred in Bail's arms. "Well, I suppose you're all set now," he told Obi-Wan. "I paid the pilot top credit for the use of her cloaked ship. She won't ask questions, either."

"Thank you for all your help, my friend."

"I wish you would consider leaving him with me," Bail said, slowly releasing Luke into Obi-Wan's arms. He adjusted the baby's blankets, his expression hollow.

"Anyone with a new baby is going to be suspicious right now. Especially someone as public a figure as you."

"And a small boy caring for an infant will be no less?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "But there are many places to hide in this galaxy, places Vader doesn't know about. I'll have to keep on the move, of course, but I know where to go. We'll just be two more lost boys in a deluge of orphans."

"You'll still need some deflection."

"And I'll have it. Droids, people I can pay to pretend they are our parents, orphanages where we can blend in—there are so many different ways I can deflect attention, and I'll use them all."

Bail nodded. "Then if you need anything, Master Kenobi, do not hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you again, Senator. I shall remember your kindness." Obi-Wan dipped his head and walked onto the _Hauken Maroon_. The ramp closed behind him.

When Obi-Wan glanced out the port window, Bail still stood outside, looking sad and alone.

. . .

The long night has begun.

A beautiful Empress stands alone on her balcony, the wind ruffling her golden gown and long, loose hair. Far below her, her husband strolls through the Imperial Gardens, holding their infant daughter in his arms. She closes her eyes and opens her hand, revealing the japor snippet that a nine-year-old boy had once carved for her. She tilts her hand and lets the snippet fall to the walkway far below. It shatters, scattering pieces across the permacrete. She stares at it for a moment, then disappears into her bedroom to prepare for her secret meeting with Mon Mothma and the Rebel Alliance…

On the jungle planet of Dagobah, a Jedi Master inspects the unfamiliar swamp to which he has exiled himself. In the distance, the shimmering blue form of Qui-Gon Jinn awaits him…

In the Imperial Throne Room, a Sith Lord sits on his throne, his back to the setting Coruscanti sun. In his arms, his infant apprentice gurgles at the hologram of a battle station that is the size and shape of a small moon…

But even in the deepest night, there are those who dream of dawn.

On Alderaan, the Prince Consort arrives empty-handed before his loving Queen. When he lays his head in her lap, she smiles and strokes his dark hair…

And on an obscure planet deep in the Outer Rim, a Jedi Master in the form of a small boy steps off of a sleek starship and surveys the crowded streets. Clouds shift across the sky, and the rising sun flashes. The baby boy in his arms stretches out his arms to greet the light. The Jedi tilts his head up towards the sky for a moment, then disappears into the crowd.

It is said that love can ignite the stars and bring light to the darkest night. Only time will tell.

. . .

_The Beginning._

. . .

. . .

. . .

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Extended Notes (Optional)

The alternate ending to the _Revenge of the Sith_ videogame made me feel cheated. It dealt with so few of the issues that the actual film and the novel brought up, being sort of a brief Easter Egg for the game. I had the idea to expand on it percolating in my brain for well over two years now, and I finally wrote it last July. The first draft was beta'd by Neotoma and the second draft by Beatrice Otter. Then it went through three more major drafts, including a movie script form and a re-write of the entire story. Then KDawg was kind enough to hold my hand and help me out and beta'd the sixth draft. After she was done through me, the poor story went through two more drafts. But I'm finally satisfied with it (or at least as satisfied as I can get).

There is a sequel to this living in my head. It's a lengthy AU series focusing on the OT, where Anakin has become "God Emperor" (if I may borrow an idea from Frank Herbet, since Lucas already did), and his priesthood has gotten out of control. Leia is a full-blown Sith Lord, while Luke is a Padawan learner under Obi-Wan's tutelage. Obi-Wan is an old man in a young man's body, and Padmé is the leader of the Rebel Alliance. And Anakin is unstable—very, very unstable. I don't know if I'll ever write it, but I want to, even though I fear I'll be wandering far into AU territory and quite possibly only be entertaining myself. Which, I suppose, is the best reason I could ever have for writing a sequel.

I also want to say a word about Padmé. This story is, in many ways, a story of her redemption. All the main prequel characters possessed a tragic character flaw that led to their destruction in one way or another, but Padmé's emotional weakness grated on me because it felt so out of character. Since Padmé gave into her own depression and essentially committed suicide in the _Revenge of the Sith_ film, thus abandoning her infant children and even her husband that she supposedly believed still had good in him, I felt she needed redemption from the stereotype of the fragile female. I wanted to give her back the strength and determination she possessed in TPM and even AotC, but without ignoring her flaws in RotS. I hope I was successful in that more than anything else.


End file.
